


total control

by allmywill



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: Awkward Kissing, Banter, Best Friends, Cigarettes, Clothed Sex, Concerts, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dry Humping, First Time, Friendship/Love, Guitars, Hugs, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Staring, Sweet/Hot, Teenagers, Touching, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:41:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22440496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmywill/pseuds/allmywill
Summary: John will always be Nigel to Nick.
Relationships: Nick Rhodes/John Taylor (Duran Duran)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i’m reading John’s book and this happened. it appears i’ve lost control, too. hmm. titled after my favorite song that’s not Duran related, _Total Control_ by the Motels.

_1977_

Nigel’s dream is driving him and Nick apart. He hates how it feels, the distance between them wearing on him with each day that passes. His days drag on, sunrise to sunset, yet he swears he feels so alive.

Shock Treatment is in his veins. Every chord keeps him going. Every time he picks up his guitar he just knows—this is _it_. This is what he wants to do with his life.

But Nick’s not here. And he can’t stand it. He’s restless without him. He’s not the same.

Everything is falling into place, and at the same time, it’s falling in shattered remains at his feet.

He puts his guitar away and goes to bed, turning out the lights and throwing the covers over his head. He’ll call Nick tomorrow.

———

Turns out, he doesn’t need to call Nick. He appears at his door the next night, a rare Saturday night he’s not with the band. Jean is quite happy to see him again. She greets him warmly, as always, and steps aside to allow him in. Nick makes the short journey upstairs to his bedroom door.

It’s closed. Locked, too. He knocks, a timid tap to get his attention. It’s strangely quiet; no music is blaring, there’s no sound at all. Definitely not like the Nigel he knows.

Nigel gets up to open it. When his eyes fall upon Nick, relief washes over him. “Nick, hi.”

He opens the door further to let him into his bedroom, into his own private world. He shuts it behind him. They’re alone together now. They’re alone together for the first time in a while. Nigel can’t remember the last time he was here like this.

“Just thought I’d drop by.” Nick smiles. “I’ve been... a little busy recently.”

Nigel returns to his bed, sitting down on the edge and patting the space next to him. He moves his open notebook and felt-tipped pen out of the way. A blush creeps onto his cheeks. He can feel its unmistakable warmth as he pushes up his glasses.

“Yeah, I’ve been too. With the band and all.” Nigel can’t wait to gush about all the cool things he’s been up to. He needs to catch Nick up on what he missed.

But he doesn’t seem interested in talking about that right now. Instead, Nick cocks his head, looking at the notebook in Nigel’s lap. “What’s that you’re drawing there?”

“Oh, it’s uh,” he stutters, “logos, designs and stuff. For Shock Treatment.”

Nick’s hazel eyes glide along the page. He reaches out and puts a finger on one of the drawings. “I like this one. Very punk.”

Nigel can feel his hand pressing down on the notebook, which is directly on top of his...

No. _No_ , he tells himself. It’s not like that. They’re not like that. But maybe, just _maybe_ he hopes they could be. His thoughts are a jumble and Nick still hasn’t removed his hand.

“That’s my favorite one,” he replies sheepishly. He looks up and meets Nick’s gaze. His eyes are so warm, so inviting, and his lips are too.

Nick takes his hand away and the two of them share an intense moment, space and time fading as they get lost in each other. Nigel realizes, while looking into his subtly made-up eyes, that he’s falling. He’s falling and it feels like the real thing, whatever that may be at the ripe old age of seventeen. It feels like the most important feeling in the world.

“I miss you,” Nick whispers. Nigel can’t look away from his mouth. He doesn’t want to.

Nigel swallows. He’s never wanted to kiss anyone so much in his life, especially not another guy. But things have been changing recently. His life has been changing. “Nick, I—”

“I know the band makes you happy, but I... I need you around, yeah?” Nick is wearing that expression he always does when he’s opening up, when he’s talking about something he’s not entirely sure of just yet. “You’re my best friend.”

 _Oh_. Nigel backs away slightly, feeling weird now. He must have read things wrong. He let his hormones take control of his actions, something he can’t seem to stop himself from doing lately. “I need you too,” he admits, then looks back down again, shutting the notebook.

There’s a long pause between them. Nigel almost expects Nick to up and leave, after that close call. He almost leaned in, almost kissed his best friend like it’s nothing. How foolish, how—

“Don’t you feel it?” Nick’s question comes out of left field, hitting him and it feels like almost like a kiss.

“Feel what?”

Nick doesn’t answer. Not with words, at least. He takes a small hand and cups Nigel’s cheek. He looks at him with those damn eyes again, full of what he hopes is wanting. Needing. A deep yearning. He hopes it matches his own. He hopes, always hoping.

Then Nick does what he’s been hoping for: he leans in.

Their lips brush before the kiss begins, both hesitating, scared. But they’re daring enough to take it a step further, because they meet each other in the middle, wherever the middle is. Nigel’s so excited he forgets to kiss back and bites Nick’s bottom lip, shock and teenage adrenaline coursing through his body. Nick gasps, pulling away.

“’M sorry, didn’t mean to do that,” Nigel mumbles. “Could we try that again?”

Nick cups his face again, nodding. “Please.”

Nigel wants their second kiss to be better than their first. His hormones take over again, he grabs Nick by the waist and pulls him closer. It’s still a bit awkward. He leans in anyway, attaching his mouth to Nick’s and hoping he’s getting it right this time.

His lips are soft, a bit sticky from his clear lipgloss, yet not overly so. To his surprise, Nick deepens the kiss, tilting his head to get better access. He starts licking into his mouth, gaining a little bit of confidence. Nigel didn’t expect him to be so good at this. 

He notes just how tight his trousers are starting to feel when Nick pulls away, chest rising and falling. He would like to go further, and at the same time, he’s terrified he’s already ruined their friendship forever. Nick’s hand drops from his face. His own are still around his waist, holding him in place. He’s afraid to keep them there and he’s afraid to let go.

“Nigel,” Nick sighs his name.

He’s really starting to think this is just some fucked up dream. He’ll wake up in the same bed he’s on right now and wonder why his subconscious is telling him to make out with his best friend.

“Nick.”

“So...”

Nigel feels that blush again, creeping onto his chest. He’s about to break out in sweat. Feelings are powerful like that when you’re seventeen. “Am I just your experiment?” he finds himself asking.

Nick shakes his head, a lock of brown hair falling in his eyes. “No. I like you, _really_ like you.”

“Okay. Glad that’s settled.” Nigel takes a hand and brushes the hair out of his eyes, an innocent touch, though he’s thinking of far less innocent touches right now.

“So you feel the same? About me?” Nick asks, leaning closer again.

Nigel laughs, still a bit nervous and it shows. “I do.”

He decides to take control this time. He lays Nick down on his bed and hovers over him. He forgot how small he really is; he feels gigantic in this moment, all elbows and knees. Nick sighs happily, and Nigel leans down to kiss him again.

This kiss is more heated than the last two were. Nigel has a knee on either side of Nick’s thighs, and two hands still holding his tiny waist. Nick grabs him by his shirt collar to pull him closer, their lips locked together perfectly.

“How... how far do you want to go?” he asks when they part. Nigel needs to know. He would do whatever Nick wanted to do, but he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

“This is okay,” Nick tells him. “For now.”

The rest of Nigel’s night is spent with his mouth on his best friend, kissing him like his life depends on it. It sure as hell feels that way. He’s falling, hard and fast, and he doesn’t know when or if it’ll end. He just keeps falling.

He needs Nick.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a vague idea of where i’m going with this, so stayed tuned for more! here’s another part that i hope you’ll enjoy.

Making decisions is never easy.

It becomes clear to Nigel after that night that it’s either Shock Treatment or Nick. He can have one or the other, but not both. He has to make a choice. He remembers Nick mentioning something about wanting to play guitar, and before he even decides what he’s going to do, he’s already bringing him to his room and handing over his acoustic.

Nick almost looks dwarfed by the guitar; the strap slung over his shoulder. The instrument is hanging off him, Nigel can’t help but giggle. The sight of him is quite endearing.

“Stop laughing and help me, Nigel!” Nick exclaims, already growing frustrated with this.

“Okay, okay. If you insist.” He gets behind him to tighten the strap, lifting the guitar enough so he can get his hands on the neck. He still looks uncomfortable.

Nick looks over his shoulder. “This looks ridiculous,” he remarks, frowning slightly.

Nigel has an idea. “Why don’t you sit, maybe that’ll help.” He puts his hand on his back and guides him over to his bed, letting him sit on the smooth duvet.

He remembers what happened in this exact spot a little over a week ago and his heart throbs in his chest. He wouldn’t mind doing that again. And again. _And again_. But he’ll try to teach him at least _something_ first. Try. He’s never been very good at resisting his desires, always caving. Always giving in. For Nick, he’ll make an effort.

They’re side by side now, and they smile at each other. The intimate moment captures their tongues; words stuck underneath them.

Nigel reaches forward and fixes Nick’s fingers on the fretboard, making them form a simple, basic chord. Touching him like this makes him want to keep touching him, never lifting his hands away from his skin. He hesitates before he draws away, the pad of his thumb running over his knuckles slowly.

“Go ahead, strum.”

Nick does and the guitar sounds a little wonky, maybe just out of tune. He chuckles. This isn’t right, and he can tell Nigel knows too by the look on his face. It feels wrong.

“This isn’t going to work,” Nick says, surprising himself. He’s not one to give up like this.

“I can try to tune it, get it to sound better?” Nigel offers, though he knows he’s no good at that either. He watches Nick’s eyes, how they fixate on him in the dimming afternoon light.

Nick shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He lifts the strap over his head and hands the guitar back to him. “I don’t think I’m meant to play guitar.”

Nigel’s heart begins to sink. Maybe some decisions are in the hands of others. Maybe he’s not in complete control, maybe he never was. “Oh, okay,” he says, disappointment in his tone.

“I still want to start a band with you,” Nick tells him, earnest as ever. He noticed how Nigel’s face fell and it’s breaking his heart. The last thing he wants is for the two of them to lose sight of their dream together.

Hope is restored in Nigel’s eyes again. “You do?”

“I do. Of course I do. I just... want to play something else.” Nick watches his eyes behind his glasses, how they never leave his face.

“Okay,” Nigel breathes. He takes the guitar and props it up against the wall behind him. “We’ll figure something out. I promise.”

Nick has good feelings about this, good feelings about them, too. Nigel’s eyes drift to his lips, his gaze heavy but not overbearing. He smiles, cause he’s so predictable, and he knows they’re both anticipating the same thing. He lets his eyes fall to Nigel’s parted lips.

“We have... a lot of work to do,” Nigel tells him, resting a hand on his knee. They’re sitting so close, touching but still not touching enough for their liking.

“We’ll get it done,” Nick reassures him with his soft voice.

It’s getting harder for Nigel to resist him. He’s here, so close and enticing. He bites his lip and it’s hardly subtle. Nigel’s hand lifts from his knee and falls upon his cheek instead, his thumb caressing his soft, flawless skin. He is the poster child of youth and innocence. He is everything he’s been dreaming of lately.

That first kiss lit something within him. It’s showing no signs of dying out anytime soon, it just keeps getting bigger and brighter. It’s so hard to ignore now, impossible to forget.

“I could use some inspiration first.” Nigel’s beaming, his glasses catching the golden light that pours in from his window. His cheeks are rosy and he can’t hide it.

Nick is charmed. But at fifteen, it doesn’t take much. “Could you, now?” he asks, lips upturned in a smirk.

Nigel nods. He leans in and connects their lips, starting off very slow and chaste. He’s learning how he likes to be kissed, using it to his advantage. It’s Nick who deepens the kiss, tilting his head and parting his lips, which allows Nigel’s tongue access. He happily accepts, exploring his mouth and getting lost in the feeling.

It isn’t long before Nick is perched in his lap. He’s clutching to his shirt tightly, while Nigel’s hands start to roam over his smaller frame. When they part, they keep their lips close, brushing as they try to catch their breath. Their chests rise and fall together while the heat of the moment scorches them; both are flushed in the face.

Nick has two arms draped over his shoulders, keeping the two of them close. “ _Nigel_ ,” he sighs against his mouth. “I want you.”

Those three simple words shake Nigel to his core. Combined with the way he said his name, he’s stunned, in shock, and slightly crazed.

“What...” Nigel trails off, air catching in his throat. “What do you want to do?”

“Just touch me,” Nick replies. He shifts in his lap, moving so that his cheek is pressed against Nigel’s. He needs to be close, needs him right here and needs to feel him.

Nigel’s hands settle on his hips, hesitant to go any further than this. “I don’t wanna mess this up, Nick.” His voice is a mere whisper, gentle and endearing.

“You won’t. I wouldn’t let it happen, you know me.”

“I— uh, alright,” Nigel stumbles over his own tongue. It feels like his mouth is full of bricks. He’s sinking into something previously unexplored and unknown to him, and though he’s thrilled by the newness, he’s scared of making a mistake. “You’ll let me know if it’s too much?”

Nick turns and kisses the corner of his mouth. “Of course.” He grinds down on Nigel, desperate for some kind of friction between them.

“ _Fuck,_ okay.”

Nigel leans forward and attaches his lips to Nick’s again, excitement stirring in his stomach. His hands slip underneath Nick’s shirt as they kiss, touching him like he asked, careful fingers making contact with smooth skin. They glide up along his rib cage, fanning out towards his back as they inch upwards.

Nick moans lowly into his mouth; he’s drinking in every tender touch he’s given. He tangles his own fingers in his hair, pulling him closer by it. He could do this forever. Though he doubts their lungs would allow them the luxury.

“You’re so... _pretty_.” Nigel would try to say something more intelligent if his brain was functioning properly. But he believes his words.

He feels Nick smile against his mouth. Every moment drags on slower than the last. Maybe it’s their hesitation setting up the pace, maybe they want it to last, could be both. Neither are too sure where they want to take this. But it’s always been the journey that’s the most enjoyable, the destination just the end of it all.

“You really think so?” Nick asks. He draws back to look at Nigel’s face, watching his expression.

“I wouldn’t lie to you like that,” Nigel tells him. He’s never been more sincere in his life.

Nick’s lips move to his neck, pushing his shirt aside so he can suck on the skin there. Nigel sighs into his hair, holding him so that their chests are flush now. He starts working on another spot, just above the mark he just made. It’ll probably be purple tomorrow, and hard to cover up, even with makeup, but he doesn’t care. He’s lost in the moment with Nigel, their world for two.

“I wanna be underneath you,” Nick says against his neck.

Nigel can’t hide his arousal; he’s jittery from it and he’ll do whatever Nick asks for. Just like the first time they did this, he lays him down on his bed, albeit with a little more force this time. Nick giggles softly at the impact as he hovers over him, their mouths colliding again. He opens his legs for Nigel to slot in between.

He lets out a squeak of surprise when he thrusts against him. Though their clothes are in the way, it still excites him, leaves him wanting more. He’s just as turned on as Nigel is, chasing that hormone-induced daydream. His hands clutch at Nigel’s shoulders, fingers digging in desperation.

“Ah— _Nigel,_ ” Nick forces out when they part for air. “Do that again.”

Nigel is propping himself up so he doesn’t crush him, hands on either side of his body on the bed, pressing into his mattress. “I love how you say my name,” he says, before following his instruction and thrusting again.

He doesn’t draw back this time, instead, he keeps grinding against him. They are hip to hip, and Nick can feel his hardness straining against Nigel’s own. It’s miles better than anything either of them do alone in their locked bedrooms, with nothing but mental images to help them along.

Nick’s eyes lock on Nigel’s face, watching how his lips part and his hair falls in his eyes. He’s certainly a sight to be seen. Right now, he’s all for Nick’s enjoyment and his enjoyment only. He can tell by his sloppy rhythm that he’s getting close. He knows he won’t last either, he can feel the familiar pressure building.

Nigel releases with a small cry, ruining his boxers. He takes a hand and palms Nick as he would do to himself.

“Almost there,” he whispers, “kiss me, Nigel.”

He complies instantly, lips in motion again. Nick comes with his hands in Nigel’s hair again, pulling at the locks as his high takes his breath away for a moment.

Nigel pulls away and collapses next to him, breathless too. He feels like he’s glowing as he looks at Nick, the sparkle in his eyes telling him all he needs to know.

“Was that good?” he finds himself asking anyway. He just wants to hear Nick’s voice.

“I loved it,” he replies with a smile. “There’s no one else I’d rather be with.”

Nigel leans forward and kisses him, never tiring of feeling his lips against his own. “Good. Let’s, uh, get cleaned up. Before my parents get home.”

They’ll figure out what to do eventually, how to build the band they’ve both been dreaming of. They’re already on their journey, just taking some stops along the way, learning more about each other than they ever thought they’d know.

Maybe some decisions make themselves.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> figured it was time for a soft chapter. enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

_1978_

Nigel is cold.

He regrets not wearing or at least taking an extra layer along to keep him warm. The sun went down hours ago and there’s a gentle breeze blowing. The brisk February weather is starting to give him goosebumps. Nick has the right idea, a white long sleeved shirt with a black tie. 

As they walk side by side downtown, he longs for the warmth of Barbarella’s. Then, looking over at Nick, he longs for the warmth of his embrace. He daydreams about his soft lips, moving against his own, and all the other wonderful things they get up to on each other’s beds. He can’t help himself.

Those thoughts help warm him slightly, as they get closer to the club. They’re both buzzing with excitement; they’ve been wanting to see Blondie live since they discovered their existence a few months ago.

Nigel feels a little bad for lying to his poor mother so much, but he supposes what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. He knows he’s safe with Nick. He’s still looking his way, noting the way his lipgloss is catching the light of passing traffic. He looks so beautiful, long brown hair framing his face.

He accidentally shoulder checks a random passerby who’s walking the other direction, so distracted by Nick. The man glares at him as he passes by. “Sorry sir!” he calls out behind him, moving over but bumping into Nick in the process.

One of Nick’s hands flies to his arm, keeping the two of them steady. The touch sends a shock through Nigel’s veins. “Are you alright?” Nick asks, looking at him with soft eyes.

“Yeah, just a bit distracted,” he replies, hoping Nick never lets go of his arm. His hands are warm. But he does, and he misses his touch as soon as it’s no longer there.

He’s relieved when he realizes they’re almost at the club. Nick doesn’t ask any further questions regarding the mishap in the street. They enter through the double doors, the ones they’ve passed through plenty of times before, even though they technically aren’t supposed to. They pass for eighteen easily, never having any trouble getting into the place.

Nigel is relieved when they walk in, the precious warmth seeping to his core. Red light surrounds them, creating a very specific and familiar atmosphere. The music can be heard outside, and the sound intensifies the further they go. They each pay the entry fee, Nigel’s fingers fumbling awkwardly. He’s nervous, though he’s not sure of the reason why.

The bouncers look them over and they both play it cool. _Don’t attract attention_ , Nigel tells himself. He’s usually pretty good at that. They get the OK and carry on towards the main room, the music getting louder as they approach. If they want to talk to each other now, they will either have to get quite loud or impossibly close. Nigel wouldn’t mind the latter.

 _Music has never sounded better than it sounds in this room._ He looks to Nick again, so happy to be here with him. Much better than being at home, locked away in his room. Well, most of the time, that is. Here come the daydreams again, though it’s nighttime. The moon is high in the sky and a few visible stars twinkle above.

They take a moment to take in the sights the room offers. There are people everywhere, punks and new wavers on the dance floor, each one individual, unique. The two of them climb the dimly lit steps up to the balcony, the bright bar above beckoning them.

They take a couple seats, side by side, and each order a Coke. Nigel digs in his pocket for his cigarettes and lighter. He feels Nick’s eyes on him, watching him push a cigarette between his lips and flick the lighter, a steady flame appearing.

He glances to Nick, watching him take a sip of his Coke. After a long drag, he exhales, then holds out his pack to him. Nick takes a cigarette with dainty fingers. He puts it between his lips and leans forward so Nigel can light it, drawing back when the end begins to glow.

It’s a beautiful, quiet moment between them, although the rest of the room is anything but quiet. The DJ keeps the volume blaring, the playlist dark and a little dangerous. Nigel is digging it. He likes his music loud enough to feel.

They have a great view of the stage from here, and it’s a lot safer than on the floor. Nigel sometimes worries about Nick, being as small as he is, in those pits and tightly packed crowds. He would hate for him to ever get hurt at one of these shows they’re not really supposed to be at in the first place.

Nigel continues to watch Nick. He’s taking absentminded drags of his cigarette as each moment drags on by, time passing slow as they wait for the band to come on. Nick seems to notice his constant gaze, a little smirk on his glossy lips. He winks, so subtle Nigel could almost miss it. Almost.

He doesn’t miss it. He smiles, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. Looking down, he takes a sip of his Coke and tries to play it cool. It’s getting harder and harder to do that in Nick’s presence anymore; he’s transfixed by him and it’s so hard to hide it.

He has never wanted to be a cigarette more in his life. It’s a strange truth he’s coming to terms with as he taps his foot against the bar. They’re both silently hoping the band doesn’t play too late, so they can catch the one o’clock night bus home. Neither want their parents to worry too much. Plus it’s a school night for Nick.

They hear the music come to a sudden stop, and there’s already commotion down below. _Blondie, Blondie, Blondie_ , the eager crowd starts to chant. They turn around to see the lights go down. The band walk out onto the stage, the gorgeous Debbie Harry front and center.

Nick looks to Nigel, Nigel looks to Nick. They both smile wide.

“We made it,” Nigel says to him. It’s then that the first driving drum beats of their song _X Offender_ begin. 

“We made it,” Nick parrots, though his voice is drowned out by the band.

It won’t be last time they say those words to each other. Nigel feels warm inside and outside, sitting next to his best friend, watching a great band play. He imagines it’s them on that stage, and he likes what he envisions. A lot.

  
———

They make the one o’clock bus with a mere minute to spare, hopping on to find most of the seats empty. It’s been a long night for the two of them. It has gotten significantly colder as well, but Blondie were so worth it. Nigel feels alive tonight.

This is the feeling he chases. He can’t ever see himself not chasing it.

He and Nick pick their seats, closer to the back. Nick is by the window and Nigel sits next to him in the aisle seat. He sighs, getting a little tired as the warmth seeps into his bones. The bus is in motion again, carrying them closer to home.

He smiles, looking over at Nick. He smiles back, then turns his attention out the window. They pass the nightlife, or whatever is left of it on a weeknight like this one. It’s looking a little bare, a little dark too.

Nigel’s emotions run wild within him. He could be looking out the window too, but instead, he finds himself looking at the side of Nick’s face. He feels infinite tonight, his world a little bigger. Everything feels important, the possibilities endless. He pushes up his glasses and thinks about how uncertain the future really is.

Though he’s certain about one thing. Whatever happens, he wants Nick by his side. He wants to do everything next to him, whether that be a quiet bus ride home after midnight or a playing a stadium to twenty thousand screaming fans. He needs him there no matter what.

Nick notices his gaze. He always does. He shifts so he’s pressed against his side, fitting like he was made to be there. Nigel accommodates his slender body, draping an arm around him lovingly. He smiles when he feels him cuddle into him further. He wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

They stay like that for a few minutes, without uttering a word. Nigel almost thinks Nick has fallen asleep on his shoulder, until his gentle voice ends their bout of silence.

“Tonight was perfect,” Nick whispers out. He sounds tired, but there’s a touch of something else in his voice that Nigel can’t quite place.

“It was,” Nigel replies, matching his tone. “Thanks for coming with me.”

Nick looks up at him, hazel eyes catching the light of passing street lamps. His eyeliner is smudged and he’s the most beautiful thing to ever grace Nigel’s eyes. His heart is in his throat.

“You know I’d never let you go to a show alone.” He can hear the smile in his voice, so sweet and meaningful.

He does know. But hearing Nick say it, well, that helps. Nigel pulls him closer, watching the night pass by in the window. There’s something magical about this moment, something infinite. It could be teenage premonition. It could just be him making something out of nothing.

But he knows that something is there, something very solid between them. It’s beautiful and new and familiar all at the same time. He knows he has to hold onto this feeling, hold onto _Nick_ , and not let him go.

Nick starts to doze off. Nigel lets him, keeping him safe and warm until their stop comes up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> following canon as closely as i can, any slip ups are just my canon now lol. let me know what you think!

“ _Three_ synthesizers, Nick! Wasn’t that fucking amazing?”

“That’s what I need, Nigel! Can you imagine how that would sound? With your guitar? We’ll find a drummer and a bassist...”

They walk through the Birmingham night together, excited as ever. Their dream is fabricating.

“That’s what we’ll do. We’re going to be the biggest band in the world!” Nigel exclaims, heart beat quickening as he runs ahead of Nick along the pavement. He throws his hands up, grinning wide, and looks at the dark sky. Utter elation fills his veins.

Nick chuckles, catching up to his best friend and throwing an arm around his waist. His skinny frame is warm against his even smaller body. He pulls Nick in and together they laugh, high on the feeling that anything could happen if they want it to. Anything can be theirs if they try hard enough, if they want it enough. And they do.

Nigel stops Nick by standing in front of him. He brings a hand to his chest, resting it there for a moment until gathers the fabric of his shirt and pulls him in. They’re hidden in the shadows as they kiss, otherworldly passion lighting them up, setting their hearts aflame. Nick smiles into it, hands roaming to pull Nigel closer.

Tonight feels eternal. Tonight feels like the beginning of everything. But the future is uncertain, it always is, and somehow, they just know. This is what they must do; both for their dreams and their happiness.

For each other, too.

A little later, in their own beds, they are still buzzing from the music of The Human League, the new sounds paving a whole new path for them to take. They both find it difficult to get sleep that night. They toss and turn, imagining being the next big thing, imagining being on top of the charts and the world.

They could have it all, have it right in the palm of their hands, but there’s much work to be done until then.

———

It’s not long after that night when Nick calls, telling Nigel that Sylvia bought him his very own Wasp synthesizer.

“How much? _Two hundred pounds?_ Are you serious?”

Nick laughs on the other end of the line. “I know. It’s worth it, though. Don’t you think so?”

“Guess so. How much convincing did _that_ take?”

“Not much, shockingly. I offered to do extra hours at the store as well. She seemed satisfied with that.”

Nigel reckons he’s just as excited as Nick. This is a gift to him, too. He makes a mental note to thank Sylvia when he gets the chance. “Wow. That’s great, Nick. I can’t wait to see it in action.”

“You can right now if you get your ass over here, Nigel.” There’s something Nigel finds so lovable about Nick’s voice and the way he says his name. “Mum’s toy store, upstairs.”

That voice could drive him to do mostly anything in the world. Knowing this both excites and terrifies him, though the former is a much stronger feeling.

“Consider me there.”

Nick giggles softly before they hang up. Nigel’s chest feels fluttery for more than one reason now.

The anticipation makes him go a little out of his head as he makes his way to the toy store, guitar case slung over his shoulder. He can’t wipe the stupid grin off his face no matter how hard he tries. He’s so excited.

They spend the rest of the afternoon there. Nigel is fascinated by the synthesizer, and he can tell by the look on Nick’s face that he is too. He reckons he’s never seen him this happy before.

He’s glowing as he tests and toys with the instrument, _his_ instrument. Seeing him behind the keyboards looks so natural, like he belongs there. Nigel watches as his delicate hands press the keys and turn the knobs with thought, fixated. It’s almost as if he can see the gears in his mind turning.

Things are starting to fall into place.

There’s unlocked potential right before Nigel’s eyes. A once frustrated Nick is now content without a guitar in hand. Nigel is beyond relieved. He was starting to think there was nothing out there that Nick would take to. This is it, finally. It feels as though the clouds have let up and the sun has come out.

He ends up abandoning his guitar in favor of watching Nick, taking in this newness with him. It’s the beginning of their band, the birth of something they both know will be incredible.

Nigel stands from his seat and comes up behind him, catching his attention right away.

“This is amazing,” Nick remarks, looking up at Nigel. “This is just what I was looking for all along.”

“I can make a couple phone calls tonight and maybe we’ll have some new members by tomorrow morning.”

Nick’s face lights up. “Really?”

Nigel nods, hair falling in his eyes. “I know some guys from school. Maybe, with some convincing, they’ll come aboard.”

Nick’s hugging him before he knows it, arms squeezing him for all he’s worth. He leans down and takes him into his arms. The embrace is taken to the next level when Nigel lifts him off his feet, causing Nick to gasp in surprise.

He clings to him harder, his arms now around his neck. “Don’t drop me now,” Nick laughs in his ear, lips then brushing his neck.

“I wouldn’t, love. You trust me, right?”

“You know I do.”

Nigel lowers him back down to the ground again. He still keeps him close, chest to chest, their hearts beating together wildly as they continue to hold each other.

“We need a name for our band,” Nick says after a few moments. They draw away, cheeks tinted and lungs robbed of oxygen.

 _Our band._ Nigel delights at those words.

“I have plenty in my sketchbook at home that we might like.”

———

“Duran? How do you spell that?”

“D-U-R-A-N.”

It’s getting late and _Barbarella_ is playing on the TV in Nigel’s living room. Nick has agreed to sleep over and they’re still trying to come up with a name. None of the ones Nigel had written down earlier were a good fit.

But this, this might be the one.

“Barbarella, find Duran Duran. _Duran Duran_ ,” Nigel repeats. “It sounds good. Really good.”

Nick leans over into his space and looks at the notebook in his lap. They’re the only two words on the page. “Nigel Taylor and Nick Bates of Duran Duran,” he voices, testing it out himself. “I like it.”

“So it’s decided then?” Nigel looks to him, the two of them locking eyes in the cool blue TV glow.

“It’s perfect.”

As they watch the rest of the film together, Nigel covers the page in Duran Durans.

———

Stephen Duffy fits right in. With him in tow, Nigel introduces him and Nick, and he’s pleased to find that they both get along quite well. He joins Duran Duran after a couple nights jamming together, him on vocals and bass guitar.

Though it’s only the three of them, Nigel is eager to make something happen. Nick purchases a drum machine to fill in for the drummer they haven’t found yet, which helps to flesh out the sound they’re going for in the meantime.

Nigel continues to be amazed by the progress Nick is making. His drive for the band has taken over; Nigel feels the same way. School is put on the back burner in his mind, though he knows this is what he wants long term. He can’t find it in himself to care when the rejection letter comes in the mail, telling him he hasn’t made the school of his choice.

He feigns disappointment to his parents just in case. Late at night, after work, he stays awake and plans what to say to them. Nigel knows he has to do this. This is his ultimate dream. He doesn’t want anything else. He needs time, and he’s praying if he plays his cards right, he’ll get what he needs.

The three of them start recording in what has become their practice space: the room above Sylvia’s store. Nigel can’t stop looking at Nick, caught up in a fantasy that doesn’t seem so unreal anymore.

He focuses his attention to his guitar, but his beautiful face still haunts him. He finds he doesn’t mind at all.

———

It takes a few weeks for Nigel to muster up the courage to sit both of his parents down and ask for what he needs. When the time comes, when he can’t wait any longer, he swallows his pride and composes himself.

Their eyes bore into his skin as he speaks, but he keeps going. He pushes up his glasses out of habit, nerves making his hands shake. He tries to hide his restlessness.

The unexpected happens. They seem weary at first, but come around soon enough. He is granted a year off to work on the band, _a year and no more_. Relief washes over him, emotion takes over. He doesn’t cry in front of them often, doesn’t show that vulnerability much.

The tears flow as he thanks them, hugging them tightly as he rejoices. This is his chance to make something of himself. He needs to prove to them that he can do it.

He thanks them over and over again. And then he goes to Nick’s, hoping he’s around to hear the good news.

Thankfully, he is, and Nigel falls into his arms the second he opens the door. They’re both smiling as Nigel tells him the news, so excited for what’s to come. Their dream feels closer and closer every day, so promising.

He holds him, never desiring to let him go. He breathes in his hair, willing more tears away, but they come anyway. He can’t help it. They’re in this together now and it’s more than just a silly daydream. Maybe it always was more. He has always been serious about it.

They grow closer, somehow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one day! the next is the last, and i sincerely hope you’ve enjoyed this. much love.

_1979_

“Would have been nice to know they were going to waltz off and start a new band, for fuck’s sake!” Nigel exclaims, pissed off that this even happened.

He thought they had a good thing going, the four of them. Apparently he was wrong. Duffy and Colley are gone now. It’s back to the drawing board: just Nick, himself, and the Duran Duran name.

“Without a singer, how are we going to perform? I sure as hell can’t fucking sing.” He continues, fuming. “I just can’t believe it. We play Barbarella’s and this is what they do?” Nigel’s voice gets louder as he paces the floor. They’re back in the room above the toy store, trying to figure out what to do, where to go from here.

“ _The Lilac Time_. Fucking wankers.”

Nick is angry too, but he wants to comfort Nigel more than anything. He crosses the room and rests a gentle hand on his arm, his touch instantly relaxing him.

“Calm down and look at me, Nigel.” Nick is serious, his tone determined. “We’ll figure something out. We don’t need them if they think they don’t need us.”

Nigel visibly deflates, his anger subsiding as he wraps his arms around Nick. “I know, you’re right but _fuck_ , I thought we had something.”

Nick breathes him in, hugging him back. Maybe he can distract Nigel with something else a little later on, get both their minds off the betrayal they feel. He’d rather not do anything like _that_ in his own mother’s store, though. He does have standards.

“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.”

Nigel raises a brow, disappearing under all that hair. “You think so?”

“Could be.”

“We’ll replace them, and we’ll be better.”

Nick smiles. “We will be.”

———

When Nigel meets Roger, he’s instantly impressed. The guy can play, he looks good, and he’s humble. And when he expresses an interest in joining the band, he and Nick are delighted. Bye bye drum machine, hello second Taylor.

Nick thinks that’s so strange, but he too sees the band’s potential with Roger. He’s happy that him and Nigel have hit it off so well, yet he can’t help but be a little jealous when he sees them bonding. Part of him wants Nigel all to himself, but they wouldn’t get very far with just the two of them.

They need Roger, Nick reminds himself.

Andy Wickett gives them all a run for their money. He’s enthusiastic to come aboard, and finally, it feels they’re gaining more than losing. There’s a voice for their songs again and it all seems so promising.

Nick is surprised when he discovers Nigel has switched to bass guitar. He walks in on him and Roger jamming one day, his old guitar abandoned. They lock eyes and it sounds perfect, the new rhythm section grooving. Nick beams. They stop playing when they notice his presence.

“So we have a new bass player?” he asks. He closes in on Nigel, standing next to him. “Since when?”

Nigel eyes Nick, then looks at Roger. He wonder if he notices the tone in Nick’s voice, the subtle flirting he seldom does in front of anyone else.

“Since today.” Nigel reaches out and ruffles his hair, knowing he hates it, but not really.

Nick looks at Roger, who’s twirling a stick in between his fingers. He must think this is pretty hilarious, if the smirk in his face is anything to go by.

“You’re lucky you sound good. Or I’d be shoving that bloody guitar—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Bates.”

“What will you do if I do?”

Nigel forgets Roger’s still behind his drum kit. He leans over and slaps Nick’s ass, hard but not too hard. Nick starts giggling and blushing like mad, punching Nigel’s arm in return. It’s all playful, all in good fun.

Nick makes an excuse to leave, mumbling about something he ‘forgot’. Nigel knows it’s because he’s embarrassed and doesn’t want Roger to see. He’s known Nick for long enough, he swears he can read his mind.

When he’s gone, Roger gives him a look. “What was that about?” he asks, voice smooth and casual.

Nigel laughs. He’s blushing too, and it’s impossible to hide. He scratches the back of his neck, awkward. “We’ve been really close for a long time. We grew up together.”

Roger doesn’t seem convinced by his lack of explanation, but he lets it go. He loves this band, loves playing with them. If they have something going on, it’s no one’s business but their own.

———

“Nik Dior of Duran Duran.” Nick looks at the page and groans, scribbling it out. “God, Nigel, it’s awful. Worse than _Nick Bates!_ ”

Nigel doesn’t laugh, though it is kind of funny, watching Nick get frustrated with his name, of all things. They’re sitting on Nick’s bedroom floor, trying to decide what to call themselves instead of their normal names. The more serious the band gets, the more they realize it has to be done.

“It’s not _that_ bad,” Nigel says. “Just might give people the wrong impression. You’re a diva, not that much though.”

“Oh, thanks Nigel. Thanks a lot. Or should I say... Johnny Raven?”

“You said you liked that one!”

“Yeah, until I realized I’d be stuck in a band with a guy named Johnny Raven.” Nick leans into his side, their shoulders touching. “Hey everyone, this is my band, Duran Duran. And this is my best friend, Johnny Raven.”

Nigel’s laughing, the voice Nick put on sending him into a fit of giggles. “Alright then, never mind. I just don’t wanna be Nigel anymore. Not when I’m on stage.”

“What about John?” Nick suggests, head resting on his shoulder now.

“John Taylor?”

“Yeah, it’s simple. And no Nigel.”

“John Taylor of Duran Duran,” Nigel says, testing it out. He’s right, it does sound good. Much better than Nigel. “I like it.”

“So do I, Johnny R— I mean, _John Taylor_.”

Nigel groans. “You’re terrible, _Nik Dior_ ,” he teases back.

Nick lifts his head and presses a kiss to Nigel’s cheek, lipstick smudging and leaving behind a stain. He notices it right away, chuckling and wiping it off. His face is hot to the touch and he finds it absolutely adorable.

“Now, help me figure mine out.”

Nigel looks in his eyes. “Nick Taylor,” he deadpans.

“Very funny,” Nick replies, smiling, and now he’s red in the face too. _Damn Nigel... or John?_

“What about the one you said earlier, Rhodes? I liked that, I thought it was cute.”

“Nick Rhodes.” Nick thinks about it, and it’s growing on him. “Cute, huh?”

Nigel can tell he’s about to say something dirty, he’s got that gleam in his eyes. “Yeah, I said what I said.”

Nick seems closer now. He rests a hand on his shoulder and leans in, lips pressed to his ear. “Let me hear you say it, John Taylor.”

“Nick Rhodes, keyboardist of Duran Duran and John Taylor’s personal sex slave.”

He’s laughing, but Nick feigns shock. “Nigel would never say that. What would mum think?”

“I don’t think I want to find out.” Nigel’s getting hot, the banter between them to blame. Nick does things to him and he knows it. “So, now that’s settled...”

He moves in to kiss Nick on the lips, tasting his lipstick. He can’t wait to ruin it, among other things. Nick responds immediately, with so much eagerness that it nearly sends Nigel backwards onto the floor.

He reaches for Nick’s shirt, wanting to feel his soft skin, but he pulls away before they go any further.

“Put a Roxy Music record on first,” Nick says. “And turn it up as loud as it’ll go.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing this fic has brought me so much joy, and all the love i’ve received for it has as well! thank you so much. and a special thank you to my rock in this fandom: Tash, you’re a legend and i love you 💕

_1980_

Fumbling with Nick’s tie, the two of them connected at the mouth, John realizes what’s about to happen between them. It was bound to happen eventually, both too scared to be the one to initiate it.

They’re not scared anymore.

John backs Nick into his bed, the backs of knees hitting the mattress. He continues to kiss him passionately as he works to remove his tie. With talented fingers, he unbuttons his shirt in record time. All the bass playing has more than one advantage, it seems. Nick lets it slide off his slender shoulders onto the floor.

Pulling away to get a better look at him, John runs a hand down his bare chest. The vulnerability they both feel is amplified, knowing how far they’ve agreed to go this time. It’s a touch bittersweet, knowing what could happen in a moment, maybe two. With the knowledge that this could change everything, they’re both inclined not to mess it up.

They tread carefully, thoughtfully locking in a heated stare. Nick’s eyes darken as he moves to help John out of his blouse, careful not to tear or ruin it. It joins his own growing pile of clothing on his bedroom floor with a muted thump.

They’re taking it slow, but waste no time getting each other out of their trousers. The sound of a belt buckle is heard as John’s hits the floor, leaving his long legs on display. He’s exposed, yet without shame. They know each other so well, better than anyone else. There’s no one else John would rather be this intimate with.

Nick falls into bed and pulls John down with him, reattaching their lips once they’re covered by the soft sheets of his bed. John’s hands come up and tangle in Nick’s now platinum blonde hair, tugging his bright locks ever-so-slightly. He licks into his mouth, the heat between them growing to a degree it has never quite reached before.

But this territory is still familiar, even as they inch closer towards the lesser known. The regular passion is there, the fire that started when they were even younger than they are now. There’s a certain gentleness that wasn’t there before. It’s not hesitation, though. Each movement is mindful of the other’s needs.

John’s body half covers Nick’s body as their lips continue their dance. He lets his hands drift down his form, stopping at his hips. He grips them and pulls him closer, still clothed cocks brushing under the safety of warm sheets.

Nick’s hands delight in John’s hair, now dyed red; it matches the lipstick he’s seldom daring enough to wear onstage at night. He lets out a soft moan into his mouth. Allowing himself to be drawn in, he succumbs to John’s needy hands as they pull apart from the kiss with burning lungs.

Now on top of him, Nick meets his eyes once more. He’s aware of that look he’s giving him and how it could be the look of love. He doesn’t address it. Instead, he grinds down experimentally, a moan slipping from John’s parted lips.

Before he can do it again, John clutches his waist and brings him in for an embrace. It shocks Nick, but it suits the pace they’re going for. He melts into his touch—pure instinct. Chest to chest, they breathe each other in. They count the moments. Time feels so unreal right now.

John can’t hide his arousal. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to Nick’s neck. He draws a heavy sigh from him that goes straight down south. He draws back again, though he could do that all day if Nick let him.

“Are you sure about this?” he whispers against Nick’s skin. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you.”

Nick shifts in his arms to capture his lips again. The kiss is chaste, sweet. “I’m sure. You’re not, Nigel. You never did.”

“Okay, just... I don’t want to hurt you. At all, ever.”

“There’s no rush. I want this.” Nick rests his head against his shoulder, feeling John’s heavenly warmth everywhere. _So heavenly_. “I waited for you, you’re the only one I want.”

His words take John by surprise. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“I did, too. For you.”

Nick lifts his head up, eyes shining. “Oh, Nigel.” He brushes John’s hair out of his eyes, a lover’s touch. It’s something like pure delight and he’s never been more certain about anything: he wants this. He wants _him_.

John leans into his touch, always craving it. All his walls crumble to pieces for Nick. Their intimacy has been this way since it first began.

“I trust you, more than anyone else I know.”

“And I trust _you_. You wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

John smiles, cupping Nick’s cheek. The pad of his thumb presses to his lip lightly, causing him to smile too. “That’s right, love.”

Another kiss. Their lips lock sweetly, as if making a promise. Nick reaches down and palms John’s hardness, catching him by surprise. A groan escapes, a little too loud; Nick devours his mouth to help quiet him down.

He parts from him and lets go in favor of leaning over to access his bedside drawer. He pulls out lube and a condom and joins him again.

John eyes the items. Nick hands them to him and already knows what he’s going to say before he even opens his mouth.

“You on bottom?” he asks.

Nick nods. “If that’s okay with you.”

“That’s more than okay.”

Nick lays back, head on the pillow as John hovers over him. He sets down the stuff and focuses his attention to Nick. He hooks his fingers underneath his underwear and pulls them down his legs, the action full of care. He does the same to himself and adds them to their pile of clothes on the floor.

He’s so turned on he’s dizzy, looking at Nick all spread out for him. There’s miles and miles of pale, bare skin between them and it’s hot to the touch. They’re nervous and their hormones are raging. They try to hide it from each other, though it proves to be useless. They can sense it.

John takes his time, starting to caress him. He runs a hand up the inside of his thigh, the touch slow and deliberate. Nick spreads his legs more and watches John with lidded eyes. His hand almost tickles as it glides along the curves of his body. He gasps when he feels that hand on his cock, pumping him a few times.

“Now you’re _teasing_ ,” Nick moans. He would be smirking if he wasn’t so strung out.

“Ready?”

“Go on.”

John finds the lube and dispenses some into his hand, making sure his fingers are slick enough. He’s seen enough porn in his days to have a vague idea of how this works—if only his parents knew the things he gets up to. Still, his hands shake slightly and his heart beats erratically. The notion that this might hurt Nick is enough to make him shy away.

He presses the first finger in. He uses his other hand to steady Nick, resting on his thigh. He looks to his face for reassurance, praying he’s not making him uncomfortable.

“If it gets to be too much, Nick, you’ll tell me, yeah?”

“Of course,” Nick replies, voice soft. The sensation new but not all that bad. He focuses on the feeling of John’s hand on his thigh, keeping him spread. He notes how his hands are still shaking. His own are too, where they rest on the sheets beneath him.

He starts to move, a subtle motion that causes Nick’s breath to hitch. He stops immediately.

“Did that hurt?” John asks, hand lightly massaging his inner thigh.

“No, felt good.” Nick watches his eyes, full of concern. It melts his heart. “Keep going.”

John complies, moving again. Nick’s lip quivers, the little bit of pleasure he feels beginning to grow.

After a few moments, Nick is more relaxed and warmed to the feeling. He starts to crave more. “Another, Nigel.”

Wordlessly, John adds a second finger. His own arousal is put on the back burner for now; he’s more concerned with Nick, making sure he’s feeling good before he worries about himself. He spreads them a bit and notes how Nick’s chest rises and falls more rapidly.

“Okay?”

Nick finds it so endearing that he feels the need to ask him every two seconds. “Yeah,” he replies simply. The stretch is equal parts strange and enjoyable.

He wills himself to relax more, knowing he’s being cared for, knowing he’s loved. He longs to kiss him more, to taste his mouth as he enters him. He’s finding the pleasure in John’s fingers as time goes on.

His eyes flutter shut, zeroing in on the delightful sensation he feels. He has always had a fascination with John’s fingers, watching intently as he plays his bass. There’s something wildly attractive about the way they move as he grooves to their songs.

John slips a third finger in, and Nick’s almost panting now. He takes that as a good sign. He spreads them more, smiling as Nick moans lowly. His palms grow clammy. Where his hand still grips his thigh, he’s burning up, skin slick with sweat.

Nick’s eyes open and meet John’s. There’s blonde hair in them and a bit of eyeliner smudged underneath. His lips are parted and the light that leaks through the blinds falls on him, making him look angelic. John feels he’s forgotten how to breathe.

“You’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful.” John’s mind is blank of everything except for Nick, it seems.

Nick doesn’t want this perfect moment to end, but he wants John inside him more than anything. “I think I’m ready,” he sighs, in absolute bliss.

John continues to pump his fingers, moving out then entering him again. He wants him so much. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt—”

“I’ll be okay. Just go slow.”

“Alright, remember to relax.”

The absence of John’s fingers feels like torture, but Nick does as he says. He can still feel where his hand was on his thigh, the ghost of his touch lingering there.

John works on himself, opening and rolling the condom down his hard cock. He groans a little as he slicks himself up, sensitive to touch. He knows he won’t last long once he’s inside Nick.

He moves closer and lines himself up. Nick wraps his legs around him as he pushes in, agonizingly slow. Nick can’t think straight, the feeling taking over. He relaxes himself again, exhaling as the stretch becomes more intense.

John leans down to press kisses to his face, hoping they’ll help distract him. He’s halfway in and controls his desire to go any further.

Nick’s hands find his shoulders, planting them there for stability. The kisses he’s being showered with help to offset any discomfort he feels. It soon starts to fade and he yearns to find the pleasure they’re both chasing after.

“More,” he groans, turning his face to meet John’s lips. “Ready now,” he mumbles against his mouth.

John pushes in further, to the hilt. He supports his own weight with one hand on the mattress and cups Nick’s cheek with the other. He takes his bottom lip between his, sucking lightly. He feels so good around him, tight heat taking his breath away.

“ _Nigel_ ,” Nick sighs, senses numbed. He has no words, his mind blank for the moment. He looks at John and feels so many things he cannot put in words.

John pulls back and draws in again, slow and loving. He tries to suppress a moan, yet it comes out anyway. He’s in ecstasy, feeling something beyond what he has ever felt before.

He keeps his pace tame. He’s afraid of hurting his best friend. Given what they’re up to now, that term is a little dated. It doesn’t cross his mind, though he’s in the thick of it.

Nick clings to him, hands tightening their grip on his shoulders. As he comes closer, going deeper, Nick pulls him in more, shifting in time with his thrusts. His arms around him keep them face to face, breathing together in little huffs. It’s a beautiful portrait of intimacy. It’s a four letter word that colors their world.

“Okay, love?” John’s voice is softened, small in his ear, breathy too.

 _Love._ The simple little word warms Nick’s heart and he swears it should be aflame by now. “Y-Yes,” he stutters, “ _Iloveyou_.”

Upon hearing his reply, John’s stumbling towards his climax, trying to hold out longer. It seems like the impossible, with Nick’s body feeling so wonderful. He could cry, emotion spilling out of his eyes with no control.

“I, _ah—_ love you.” John’s lips brush his cheek, growing closer by the second.

Nick’s eyes slip closed, sighing as he comes, coating his stomach in white. “ _Nigel_ ,” he repeats, though he doesn’t go by the name anymore.

John follows soon after, the heat between them pushing him over the edge. Maybe the term best friends still applies, but there’s more to it. There’s more to them and there has been for a long time. Their intimacy solidifies this, makes it all so much clearer.

He pulls out carefully, mindful of Nick. They’re both covered in sweat and trying to catch their breath.

As John’s disposing of the condom, Nick watches him. He can’t will himself to call him John. It’s so unnatural, after years of the name _Nigel_ flying from his lips so free and easy. Especially now, with his loving touch under the sheets of his bed. Impossible.

“Do you...” Nick starts, his drawl trailing off as he tries to phrase what he wants to ask.

John slides in next to him again, wiping him off with the sheets they’re tangled in.

“Do you mind me calling you Nigel still?”

John shakes his head. “No, not at all.”

Nick looks confused. He lets John pull him into his arms. “Why though?”

“John is the bassist of Duran Duran, John... is an attention whore,” he laughs. “Nigel is whoever’s behind all that, the facade. I’ll always be Nigel to you.”


End file.
